Prologue to a Untitled book

This is a story about a person ( I have kept the main characters identity secret) who has grown up in a family where they have not been appreciated. This is just a prologue to a story later, so It is still in the works

Submitted:Jun 10, 2009
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1 "Get me the hell out of here Tom, He
has a goddamn gun, what the fuck get me the hell outta he --" I
was shot at, I do not know by who but it was a fucking goddamn
drive by again. The neighborhood I live in is not the greatest of
neighborhoods every so often you get shot at for no reason. Since
my parents have kicked me to the curb even though I don't turn
eighteen in a couple of months, I have had to live on my own and
find any money I could just to survive. I had to do everything I
could just to survive in this crappy place. I feel like this
society has given up on me. I had to stop school and prostitute
around sleazy motels just to get a few bucks for cash. I felt
cheap, letting truckers and other sleaze bags just to have their
way with me.

My life has always been a crazy one. I remember one
day when my parents had taken me to a local amusement park during
one my summer vacations that I got on one ride it was a kiddy
ride and my parents didn't want to ride so they let me go alone
and well by then I was alone, typical of my parents though. If
they ever wanted some privacy they just left me, I was deleted
out of there life for a couple of minutes then they start to pay
attention to me again. I hated my life just because of my
parents, I know they meant well but in my opinion they could have
paid more attention to me. I tried everything to get attention
even if it got me arrested. I despised them until I was thrown
out, they did nothing, and they did not care even if I was alive
anymore. Really! During one time where I had a ten day prison
term to knock some sense into me, I had gotten out and when I got
home no one had even known I was gone, my mom and dad were
drunken assholes (which I do not know how they had paid for
because neither had jobs and it just baffled me that two assholes
can get drunk even though they do not have any money).

I had very little family, or so I thought. Well what
had happened was that my family had started to hate each other
because of a small fight had blown up into a family rivalry. My
grandmother hated who my mom had married and had a "mistake" with
him. I was the mistake but early on in my life, my grandmother
loved me that was until she had died just a few years back. That
was a turning point in my life because I had relied on her
because of all the support that she had given me. My parents were
assholes and did not give a care about me. My grandmother had
loved me, if I was hurt she would try to make me feel better and
most of the time it worked. Before she had died, I asked her if
she could become my guardian so I wouldn't have to live with my
dead beat parents, but she gave me good advice, "Even though life
could be hard, just live through it. You cannot run away from
your problems, it is easier to just hit it head on." I used that
advice whenever I had run into a problem in my life, even though
it mostly worked, it didn't help on my parents. I tried
everything to avoid them at the most worse of times but destiny
brought me too them and well if they didn't do what they had did,
I would not be the person I am today.

Well since I finally got out of the way of gunfire, I
decided to finally get the hell out of there. Tom started to
whisper to me, "Hey, when do you think we should get out of here
because I am fucking scared to lose my life." "Tom, we are
leaving now and forever, I will never come back to this
neighborhood for as long as I live," I reassured him. Tom was one
of my best friend we had known each other since grade school. He
met me on the first day of kindergarten, when I had a tantrum and
started to throw stuff, however I didn't hurt anyone. After my
meltdown he came over and started to talk to me and we became
friends. We had been through so much since I had met him so long
ago.

When I was back in therapy they wanted to know who we
cared for the most and why, so I told them, "Well the one I care
for the most would have to be my best friend Tom and the reason
why would because he found me after my suicide attempt. The
reason I wanted to off myself is because at the time, I figured
that no one had cared for me because my parents despised me and
my friends were just friends."

I was surprised that someone actually cared for me,
it took some time to understand but then I liked the fact that
some cared for me. Everyone started to turn their back on me and
I had no reason to live anymore. When Tom found me, I was in a
terrible state my arm was gushing blood and just puddles and
puddles of blood everywhere, I had blacken out and then when I
woke up again I was in the hospital, barely clinging to life.
When I awoke the only people that were with me were a few close
friends not even my parents. It hurt like hell, just to feel the
blood gushing; it hurt me so much.

2 Life had gotten a little bit easier after
I left the neighborhood. I moved in with Tom and his grandparents
just for a small amount of time until I could pick myself off my
feet. Tom's grandparents were very understanding and also very
supportive; they helped me get my first job as a manager at a
small drugstore. It wasn't very busy so I never had to worry
about much happening really; I just closed up most of the times.

On one disturbing night, Tom's grandparents got a
frightening phone call. The mysterious voice yelled over the
phone, "Where the hell is he? Huh you fucking old geezer, where
the hell is my helper huh, are you keeping him for yourself huh
--" the grandparents hung up and started to run down the hall
pounding on my door. I groggily stated, "Hello, what do you
want?" They came through the door and looked frightened and
managed to squeak out, "We got a call….." It was a slight awkward
pause, and well it was just silent. Silence was not good in my
life and then I decided to say something, "Hey do you know where
Tom is?" "Tom, where the hell are you," his grandmother started
to run down the hall screaming. She ran back and said that Tom
was not in his room and that there was no sign of him since last
night. I got my prepaid cell out and started to call him, it
rang three times before he picked up, "Hey Tom, um where the hell
are you, your grandparents are worried sick," his grandmother
tried to snatch the phone away but her husband stopped her, "Well
don't I get a answer, I am your best friend, so where are you?" I
didn't get an answer back it was just silent until the line went
dead. I told his grandparents not to worry and just get some
sleep, and reassured them that I would try to contact him
tomorrow morning as soon as I woke up.